


Hands-On Experience

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Nudity, On-Set Fic, PWP, Praise Kink, Sexual Tension, handjobs, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 01:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19074775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: It’s an understatement to say Taron feels out of his depth in this scene; the closest he’s got to something similar was his scene with Hanna, and that hardly compares. Richard may not have been full starkers inBodyguard, but Taron saw clips—Richard’s hips thrusting, mouth open in a moan, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Same withIbiza: the sight of Richard gasping with his face between Gillian Jacobs’ breasts was memorable, to say the least.





	Hands-On Experience

**Author's Note:**

> another idea that struck me: Taron having a praise kink and Richard playing with it. This is all fictional, ofc.
> 
> Big thanks to Hannah for beta'ing, and ofc to Pip for continuing to enable me, you bastard <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Despite the inherent awkwardness of stripping down bare in front of god knows how many cameras and at least twice as many people—there’s something to be said for rolling around in a bed with Richard Madden.

It’s still awkward, certainly, but it’s easy, too. Easy to back off with a huff of laughter and call for a quick break. Easy to duck away from another kiss and ask for a water bottle, instead. Easy to lose himself in the kissing instead of being so hyperaware of his every little movement.

It’s an understatement to say Taron feels out of his depth in this scene; the closest he’s got to something similar was his scene with Hanna, and that hardly compares. Richard may not have been full starkers in _Bodyguard_ , but Taron saw clips—Richard’s hips thrusting, mouth open in a moan, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Same with _Ibiza_ : the sight of Richard gasping with his face between Gillian Jacobs’ breasts was memorable, to say the least.

Suffice to say Richard has a leg up—in more ways than one, Taron thinks with a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Richard murmurs against his lips.

Taron bites his bottom lip on a grin. “Nothin’,” he lies.

“Brat.” Richard kisses him again before Dex or Matthew can tell them off for getting distracted.

It’s an all-consuming kiss, like all the rest that came before. It’s made all the more crazed by Richard’s hand skirting the waistband of Taron’s briefs and just barely missing the base of his stiff cock.

Taron moans quietly into the kiss and curses Richard’s answering smirk. “Fuck off,” Taron groans when the kiss breaks again, and somewhere behind the hoard of cameras, Dexter swears and laughs.

“How about a quick ten?” Dex calls and the set becomes a flurry of activity. People start to talk and flutter about and slowly, torturously slow, Richard peels himself off Taron.

“Doing good,” Richard tells him a few moments later, after they’ve both snagged a drink of water. “Think we shouldnae have tae shoot much more.”

 _Pity_ , Taron thinks. He says, “You’re an excellent teacher.” It has the desired effect, as Richard turns ever so slightly pink in the cheeks.

“And you’re a cheeky fucker,” Richard taunts as he reaches out to punch at Taron’s side.

Taron yelps and rolls off the bed. “Watch it!”

“I am.” Richard’s eyes rake down Taron’s body in an exaggerated leer. Despite the heat singing in his veins, Taron bursts into laughter and Richard follows soon after. “C’mon, come back to bed.” Richard pats the bed sheets.

Taron obeys and slides back onto the bed. Richard scoots minutely closer and grins at him. “What?” Taron asks. “What’re you looking at?”

Richard grins but before he can answer, Dex is calling them back to set and the moment is lost. Despite that, it’s easy enough to fall back into their roles. They’re professionals after all; their kisses and touches never quite lose their perfunctory edge. Taron’s only half hard in his jeans, which is a blessing with how tight the fucking things are.

He and Richard pick up where they left off, with Richard pressing him against the bed and both of them going for his trousers. Richard gets a hand hooked on the waistband once the button and zip are undone and he starts to shove. Taron lifts his hips and wriggles to help get them off. He’s helpless to shiver when the cool air of the studio hits his overheated skin, but he shivers for a wholly different reason when Richard grabs his hip hard and tugs him closer.

It’s a blur from there, of getting their clothes off yet again and Richard dragging Taron between his legs, throwing his own legs around Taron’s hips. They’re both wearing privacy socks but that doesn’t stop the heat from rising, the brush and glide of skin on skin. Richard’s cock is hot against Taron’s thigh.

“So good,” Richard whispers, and Taron chokes out another moan. “So good for me, doing so well.” The words are too soft to be caught by the sound crew, there’s hardly a chance they’ll make it into the film. Taron’s heartbeat surges into overdrive and he thrusts his hips against Richard’s.

It’s too quick at first, frenzied the way Taron feels when he’s gone too long without any action. Dex’s notes about tenderness and lovemaking come back to him, so Taron slows his pace. It’s still enough to get his prick twitching with interest, and Richard’s little mutterings aren’t helping matters.

Or perhaps better said, they’re helping _too_ much. Taron isn’t quite sure if Richard is doing it as a sort of character bit, like Reid might praise Elton—but something tells Taron it’s not so simple.

“Good boy,” Richard breathes and Taron has to lean back and call for a cut. His chest is heaving and Richard looks to be in a similar state. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes but the curve of his grin is endearingly unsure.

For a second, Richard’s gaze drops to Taron’s crotch and the half chub he’s sporting. Taron’s about to complain about being teased except he realizes Richard is hardly soft himself.

“I think we got it, guys,” Dex calls out. “We did a good pan up that’ll look perfect.” There’s scattered applause across the set followed by louder laughter, including from Richard and Taron himself. “Great job.”

The dismissal is gentle but clear. People start moving again quick as ever, off to prepare the next set or the move cameras or to start reviewing footage, however briefly. Taron rises from the bed and accepts a robe from a random intern, and watching as Richard slips into a robe as well.

“Come tae mine?” Richard asks.

Taron swallows. “Yeah, alright.”

They slip from the stage quietly, nodding to people here and there. Richard leads the way, even though Taron knows their trailers are in the same area. He follows close at Richard’s heels. He’s keenly aware that they’re both still naked and while the thought doesn’t quite bother him, he still tugs the robe tighter around himself.

Richard slips into his trailer and holds the door open for Taron to follow. There’s the dull metal clunk of the door falling shut, followed by the even softer sound of a lock sliding into place, and the next thing Taron knows he’s being herded against the door.

“Richard,” Taron breathes. His hands flap about, unsure for a moment, before they find the other man’s shoulders.

“Taron,” Richard replies with a grin. “You liked tha’, didn’t you?”

“What?” Taron asks, even as he obediently tips his head back when Richard starts to nose along his neck, kissing gently at the skin there.

“Being my good boy, hm?” Richard bites down but doesn’t suck a mark into Taron’s skin. “You liked me telling you how good you were doing.” He doesn’t ask this time; it’s a statement of fact.

Taron swallows.

“It’s okay,” Richard continues, tone softer. “Tell me, darling.” Richard works a hand between their bodies and his fingertips skirt the base of Taron’s cock again. “You had tae feel how hard I was for ye.”

“I did.” Taron shudders after the admission, gasping like he’s just come up for air. “Could feel you against my thigh.

Richard grins at him, all teeth. “So did ye like it? Being my good boy?”

Taron moans and tilts his head forward; Richard obliges him with a kiss. “Wasn’t sure at first if you were doing it for me or the film,” Taron admits against Richard’s lips.

“Both, if I’m being honest. Didnae think it would get ye so riled up, little tart.”

Taron presses his hips forward and groans when Richard meets him part way. Both their cocks are hard and hot and Richard’s slipping both their robes open so it’s skin on bare skin. “It won’t even make it into the film.”

“Still worth it, for how hard it got ye, I think.” Finally, Richard takes pity on him and curls a sweat-slick hand around Taron’s dick.

Taron cries out and slams his head back against the door hard enough that the trailer rattles. “Fuck, Richard, _fuck_.”

“You did so well, Taron,” Richard murmurs. His lips are dry and soft on Taron’s jaw and his hand is smooth and quick around his cock. “Such a good first time, hm?”

Taron’s knees buckle and he clings to Richard’s shoulders tighter. “Ah,” he pants; he wants to respond, retort with something, anything. Richard’s smart smile and shining blue eyes—not to mention his clever, perfect hand working Taron over—are fast making it terribly hard to think.

“Weren’t shy at all, were ye? My perfect, handsome boy.”

Taron shudders and bucks up into Richard’s hand. “Felt—ah, fuck, _god_ —?”

“Richard is just fine,” Richard says, smug.

“Sod off,” Taron moans. “Felt nervous. You made it better.”

“M’glad.” Richard’s voice is tender and genuine and Taron whimpers. “That’s it, c’mon now. You’ve been so worked up all day, be a good boy and come for me, Taron.”

Taron shivers and comes; he fucks into the tight, slick circle of Richard’s fist and stains both their robes with streaks of come. Richard holds him through it, one arm slung around Taron’s back while the other works him through the aftershocks.

“Rich,” Taron breathes when the friction is just this side of too much.

“Good boy,” Richard says again, kissing Taron’s indignant response right from his trembling lips. Richard groans into the kiss and bats at Taron’s hand when he reaches for him. “Won’t take more than a mo’.”

“Wanna touch you.” Taron’s voice is edging close into whining.

Richard’s grin is smug and Taron wants to kiss it away—so he does. He kisses Richard deep and wet and filthy, all the while painfully aware of Richard stroking himself off. There’s the slick sound of Richard’s hand, covered in Taron’s come, and the soft flutter of their robes moved by the force of Richard’s arm.

Taron kisses him until Richard’s doing little more than panting into his mouth, pressing him against the door, smearing come against his hip as he finally starts to come. Taron’s breathing just as hard as Richard, even though he’s long since recovered from his own orgasm.

Richard peppers kisses along Taron’s neck before reaching his mouth again. This kiss is sweet and soft and Taron feels suddenly disarmed, but enjoys it no less.

“We’re probably due back on set soon.”

Taron groans. “I smell like come and you’ve got sex hair.”

“Like tha’s going tae surprise _anyone_.” Richard kisses Taron’s cheek noisily before stepping back. Unsure of how steady he’d be on his feet, Taron is content to watch as Richard pulls wet wipes from a drawer and cleans his hand and stomach, then brings a fresh wipe to Taron. He wipes Taron clean, too, and that only serves to have Taron’s cock twitching with interest again.

“Oh, tae be young again,” Richard taunts.

Taron rolls his eyes. He pulls Richard in by his robe and plants a heavy kiss on his lips; he licks at the seam of his lips but leans back before Richard can deepen the kiss. “C’mon, like you said. We’re probably due back on set.”

They get as far as wrapping their robes around themselves again and ten feet away from Richard’s trailer before Richard catches Taron’s wrist in a gentle hold.

“We’re good, yeah?”

Taron blinks before grinning bright. “Course.” He shifts his arm so he can link fingers with Richard instead. “Better than, even.”

Richard smiles back. “Good.”


End file.
